


make me feel like I'm the one who moves you

by ohmcgee



Series: ohmcgee's mallverse [39]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, pre-mallverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:17:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: When Bruce murmurs something against Harvey’s jaw, Harvey shoves him back against the other side of the cab.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bruce was in a band once y'know.

In Amsterdam they throw bottles at them. Bruce has to catch Mera before she flies off stage to, as she put it, “bite that asshole’s tiny dick off.” The thing is though, they sort of deserve it. Harvey keeps fucking up chords and it’s throwing everyone off. 

“I’m just not feeling it, okay?” Harvey says during the next break and Diana looks like she wants to punch him when he shrugs his shoulders.

“Diana,” Bruce says, taking a step forward to put himself between her and Harvey. “They already hate us. They’ve been booing us for the last hour. No one even wants to hear us play anymore, let’s just --”

He looks to the side as Mera takes her shoe off and throws it at somebody. 

Diana sighs. Harvey laughs. 

“Fine,” she says. “But I don’t want to look at him for at least a day.”

Bruce holds Harvey back as he leans in and makes kissy faces at her. “That’s fair,” Bruce says, grabbing Harvey by his flannel. “Tell the nice people goodbye, Harvey.”

Harvey raises both arms and flips the crowd off.

Bruce tries not to laugh. _Really._

 

: : :

 

“How come you don’t hate me, huh?” Harvey asks when they get back to the hotel, twisting open the bottle of Jack he left on the coffee table when he plops down. “Everybody else does.”

“Well,” Bruce says, snatching the bottle out of his hands so hard a little of it splashes onto his wrist. Harvey watches with hunger in his eyes as Bruce licks it off, then tilts the bottle back. “You are being an asshole.”

“Right, yeah,” Harvey says, leaning forward and putting his hands on either side of Bruce, backing him up against the back of the couch and caging him in. “But you’re still here. Why’s that, Bruce?”

Bruce just rolls his eyes, takes another pull from the bottle and Harvey dives in immediately, licks the whiskey out of his mouth and grinds down on him.

“Can’t even seem to run _you_ off,” Harvey growls out as he dips down and bites at Bruce’s throat, laughs when Bruce drops the bottle of Jack and it spills all over the carpet. “I wasn’t done with that, you fuck.”

Bruce slides his fingers through Harvey’s matted, tangled curls, pulls him down and bites at his mouth. “We have more.”

“Nah,” Harvey says and sits back quickly, grinning like a maniac and grabbing Bruce’s arm when he stands up, dragging him off the couch. “Let’s go out.”

 

: : :

 

Harvey drags him down to the red district, makes Bruce translate for him as he buys some weed and coke off a very polite french woman dressed as a nun, stuffs it in his coat pocket then pulls him into the next club they come across. 

Bruce looks at the dancers in cages, squints through the bright lights and fog machines, and gets groped so many times on their way to the men’s room that he stops noticing it. 

“Fun time,” Harvey grins at him when he locks the stall behind them and takes the baggy out of his coat, laughing when he sees the look on Bruce’s face. “What’s the matter? Thought they taught all rich kids to take it up the nose.”

Bruce flips him off and Harvey just reaches out and catches his wrist, sucks Bruce’s finger into his mouth, then pulls it out with a wet pop. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he says, cupping Bruce’s face in one hand and kissing him. When he lets go Bruce just nods, eyes already halfway blown, and watches as Harvey shakes a little out on the edge of the sink, bends down and comes back up with wide eyes and an even wider grin, grabbing Bruce and kissing him with coke dust on his upper lip.

“Your turn, princess,” Harvey giggles in his ear and puts his hand on Bruce’s back when Bruce bends down, shoves him against the stall wall when Bruce comes back up and kisses his mouth raw. “Ready to dance?”

Bruce nods shakily, too many words wanting to come out at once, and lets Harvey drag him back out to the dance floor. 

 

: : :

 

He doesn’t remember much after that aside from the sweat on his skin, Harvey’s hands sliding up his shirt, Harvey mouth on the back of his neck. It feels like floating, no -- like flying. He doesn’t remember there being this many _colors_ before. He doesn’t remember Harvey touching him feeling so good, _needing_ it so bad that he can’t get close enough, that if he could just climb inside Harvey that would be enough, that would be --”

“Fuck,” Harvey says, grabbing his face and forcing Bruce to look at him. “Babe. Bruce. You okay?”

Bruce just nods again, tugs at Harvey’s hair and shoves his tongue down his mouth, claws at his shoulders, his chest. He just needs --

“Bruce,” Harvey says, peeling Bruce off of him and clutching his hand. “Come on, we’re going back.”

The air is colder outside when Harvey drags him out the door and Bruce can’t stop shaking so Harvey pulls his coat off and gives it to him, bundles Bruce up and pulls Bruce in the cab with him when it shows up. 

“Fuck,” Harvey says when Bruce curls into him on the ride, muttering things under his breath as Bruce gropes and grabs at him, still trying to get closer. When Bruce murmurs something against Harvey’s jaw, Harvey shoves him back against the other side of the cab. 

“Don’t fucking say that.” He says. 

It’s the last thing he says to Bruce until they get back to the hotel. 

 

: : :

 

“I’m fine,” Bruce tells him when they get up to their room. He twists his fingers in Harvey’s shirt, nips at his jaw. He’s thinking a little more clearly now, but he still has this need thrumming through him that he can’t ignore. He gets Harvey’s shirt off over his head, scratches his nails down his chest just to watch the pink fade away. “I’m _fine_. Just --”

Harvey catches Bruce’s wrist and pins him against the wall, holding his arms over his head. “You’re driving me crazy,” he growls out. “Everything...you _always_ \--”

“I want inside you,” Bruce moans as Harvey sucks a dark bruise on his throat and Harvey’s hands go vice-tight around his hips and his teeth skid across Bruce’s skin when he says it. Bruce didn’t realize how much he needed it until he said it outloud. “God, Harvey. I -- I _need_ it. Let me -- fuck, please --”

“Yes,” Harvey breathes out, his forehead pressed against Bruce’s and the next thing Bruce knows they’re in the bedroom and Harvey’s stripping him. Harvey’s holding his hips to the bed and Harvey’s mouth is hot and wet around him, slurping at him, and if he doesn’t stop soon then this isn’t going to work, but apparently Harvey knows that because he pulls off a moment later, his mouth _beautiful_ and abused. He grabs the lube from his bag, squirts some onto his own fingers and reaches behind to work himself open before rolling a condom on Bruce and crawling on top of him. 

The sounds Bruce makes when Harvey sinks down on him doesn’t even sound human to him. He leaves imprints in Harvey’s thighs he squeezes them so hard, bites into his bottom lip so sharply that blood floods his tongue. 

“ _God --_ ”

“Shit, Bruce,” Harvey chokes out, wrapping a hand around his dick, the other one pressed against Bruce’s ribcage. “That’s -- christ, you’re so deep in me.”

“Can I --” Bruce starts and Harvey nods, both of them groaning when Harvey rocks back down on him. 

Everything after that just kind of melts together. Their bodies, Bruce’s moans and Harvey’s constant string of profanities, the way Harvey’s fingers taste in his mouth when his hand slips because Bruce is fucking up into him so hard. 

Bruce tries so hard to focus on the way Harvey’s eyes roll back into his head when he starts to ride him, wants to taste the sweat dripping down Harvey’s chest. He feels like he could do this forever, just fuck and suck and kiss and ride this fucking high until he dies. When he comes it hits him suddenly, a quick twist to his gut and then he’s shouting, digging his nails into Harvey and spilling into him, saying, “I fucking love --”

 _This_ , Bruce thinks he was going to say, _fucking you_ , but Harvey’s hand comes down around his mouth before he can say anything and Bruce feels him clenching around him, grunting and gasping as he spills onto Bruce’s stomach. 

 

: : :

 

Bruce wakes up about an hour later, twisted up in the sheets and sweating next to Harvey, who’s still awake, sitting naked on the side of the bed and plucking at his guitar.

“Sleep,” Bruce grumbles. “Sleep is something people do.”

“Boring people,” Harvey says and keeps thrumming at the chords until he finds one he likes, then moves on to the next.  
Bruce falls asleep again to the sound of rain on the window and Harvey’s low, throaty voice coming up with their next hit song.


End file.
